


Royal Rebound

by molossiamerica (afjakwrites)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Past FrUk, Royalty AU, alfred is a playboy w/ a heart of gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afjakwrites/pseuds/molossiamerica
Summary: After being dumped by his boyfriend of two years, Spadian Prince Arthur Kirkland uses one of Spades’ most famously improper aristocrats in order to make him jealous. But perhaps the man he’s using is the man he truly wants…





	Royal Rebound

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted to my writing blog @afjakwrites on tumblr!

Despite numerous attempts to remain calm, Arthur was near explosion only halfway through the royal ball. 

It was the first one he’d held since his recent break up with the Prince of Diamonds, Francis Bonnefoy, and although Arthur would have preferred him not to be there, he was required to invite the nobility from every kingdom with whom Spades was on good terms with. The mere thought of seeing Francis at a Spades ball sent Arthur reeling. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to punch the man or kiss him, but seeing as he could do neither, he was going positively mad.

The Prince of Diamonds had broken up with the completely unsuspecting Arthur just shy of their two year anniversary. It had left both Arthur and the whole of Spades and Diamonds heartbroken; he and Francis had been the “it couple” of the kingdoms before they’d even officially announced their relationship. Both Princes were beloved by the kingdoms, and their parents had thought of a marriage that resulted in a Spades-Diamonds merger as a certainty. Thus, Arthur was left completely shocked when Francis severed their bond, claiming he no longer felt a connection with Arthur. They had waited a few days to tell the press—mainly because Arthur had refused to believe it at first.

When they did release a statement, the news spread rapidly. Within a week every kingdom was well aware of their breakup, and nobility and common folk alike had sent gifts of condolences to both Princes, the amount of which had taken up an entire room of Spades Palace.

Francis had recovered from the break up quickly; hell, he’d barely seemed upset in the first place. Arthur, however, had been inconsolable. Unlike the Prince of Diamonds, he’d been—and still was—madly in love.

Though he’d tried his best to move forward, the sight of Francis with a pretty woman from Clubs under his arm as he entered the ball made Arthur want to scream. Though it was a Spades ball, the Prince had spent the majority of his time leaning against the wall trying not to get caught glaring daggers at Francis and his date, neglecting his duties as a host.

“Your highness?” A voice suddenly sounded from beside Arthur, and the Prince turned toward it.

He was immediately met with the strikingly handsome face of Alfred Jones, the son of a Duke and a member of the Spades court. Though Arthur hadn’t often spoken with him, he was well aware of Alfred; the man was something of a Spadian celebrity due to his attractiveness, boyish charm, and tendency to get himself into situations ranging from gossip-worthy “scandals," secret travels abroad, hidden investments in activist groups, and numerous flings.

Over all, the young man was the perfect example of what Spadian nobility was not to be. While Arthur admired the American’s commitment to activism and the extraordinary kindness he was well-known for, he was often put off by the man’s complete outrageousness. Alfred was extremely obnoxious, speaking loudly and laughing even louder. He cared little for social classes and was often found befriending anyone he seemed interested in. Furthermore, he had a habit of getting caught with marijuana or alcohol—both of which were not illegal in Spades as long as the individual was eighteen or older, but were seen as improper and very much a “lower-class” habit. Among Spadian aristocracy, marijuana was never touched and alcohol was only present at balls or parties, usually only in the form of wine or champagne.

Arthur pursed his lips and raised one thick brow, gazing up into the strikingly tall man’s face. “Yes?” He asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

Oblivious to the Prince’s distaste, Alfred grinned down at the man. “Listen, I, uh, I heard about you and his highness the Prince of Diamonds. I know it’s a little soon ‘cause y'all only broke up a couple of weeks ago, but I just wanted to let you know that if you’re ever interested in having some fun, I’d be happy to take you out. And I totally get it if you don’t want to, man, seriously. Just figured I’d put myself out there.”

Arthur shifted, an amused smile set upon his face. He was prepared to tell the younger man how delighted he would be to go out with Alfred as soon as the man found his brain when he noticed that most of the room was looking at them, including Francis. Arthur’s snarky smile shifted to a sweet one, realizing that Alfred’s company was a sure-fire way to make Francis incredibly jealous.

“That sounds wonderful, darling,” purred Arthur. “When?”

Alfred seemed somewhat surprised, bright eyes going wide before a sly grin slipped onto his face. “Really?”

“Did you think I would say no?” Arthur inquired.

Alfred rolled his broad shoulders. “Kinda, yeah. I mean, you have a reputation for being kinda stodgy and boring, and I know you’re not a big fan of my lifestyle… But, hey, it’s good to have some fun sometimes, isn’t it? I mean, the pressure on you and Francis must have been fucking insane. People were always talking about you two getting married one day.”

Arthur tried not to let the sudden dropping of his heart show. Alfred had been correct that it was a lot of pressure, but Arthur had never asked for release from it. In most cases, he’d welcomed the pressure of his parents and kingdom, thinking that it had solidified his and Francis’ relationship and meant a promise of a lifetime spent together.

“You know, darling, you are exactly right,” Arthur purred. “I’ve disapproved in the past, but I’m interested in learning a few things from you now.” The Prince lied with a coy smile, watching Alfred’s face light up.

The two spent the rest of the ball attached at the hip. Alfred spoke about whatever idiotic subjects crossed his mind while Arthur pretended to listen and responded occasionally, his arm wrapped tightly around Alfred’s waist. He spent the majority of the evening taking vehemently at Francis until the man looked away, at which point Arthur would turn his gaze toward Alfred and feign vehement interest in whatever the man was speaking of.

Had it been anyone else, Arthur would have felt guilty about using them to make someone else jealous. However, seeing as it was Alfred—a man Arthur had no respect and little patience for—he saw no problem with using Alfred. After all, the man was a well-known playboy; perhaps playing him the way he often played others would give him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, Francis had never liked Alfred much either, claiming that the American had no appreciation for the finer things in life. Surely seeing his ex under the American’s arm would drive Francis mad with jealousy.

By the end of the night, Francis had approached the pair and greeted both of them, although his gaze never left Arthur’s face.

“You look well, Arthur,” Francis said.

Arthur’s heart beat madly in his chest, but he contained himself and let his hand run down Alfred’s arm, trying not to smile when Francis’ eyes followed his movement. “Yes, well, Alfred has kept me thoroughly entertained tonight.” He lied once more, grinning up at the American.

Francis looked between the pair, a glint of anger in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. The ball has been lovely, your highness. Thank you for inviting us.” Francis said in reference to himself and his date, who Arthur had only just realized was standing beside the man.

With that, Francis left. Arthur’s stomach dropped and he watched the man with a dejected frown, his shoulders slumping. Oblivious, Alfred tugged him closer and began speaking animatedly about some other subject while Arthur attempted to tune him out as best as he could.

* * *

From there, Alfred and Arthur began what Arthur could only describe as a “friends with benefits” relationship. While they hadn’t yet slept together (and, to Arthur’s great surprise, Alfred hadn’t yet brought it up), they both received something from the other. Alfred got the company and flirtations of the Prince of Spades, and Arthur got an artificial relationship that would surely drive Francis mad.

Within two weeks, the press had been filled with stories of the pair on various outings together—they’d seen each other three times since the ball, all per Alfred’s request.

The first date had been a nightmare; Alfred had taken Arthur to a theme park and dragged a reluctant Arthur onto several roller coasters, only to laugh at the Brit afterward for being a “scaredy cat”. The second date had been better. Alfred seemed to have been paying attention to what little person information Arthur had offered and chose something more his speed—a high-end restaurant. Though at first Arthur had dreaded sitting down with Alfred for over an hour with no other distractions, it had gone relatively well. Francis was still always in the back of his mind, but the date had been the first time Arthur had even been able to take Francis away from the forefront of his attention. Alfred was a surprisingly good conversationalist, and the kindness he was known for was abundantly true—Arthur had ended up speaking his fair share, and Alfred seemed sincerely interested in Arthur.

The third date, though, blew the other out of the water. Not only did Alfred arrive early and with a bouquet of red roses—Arthur’s favorite—in hand, but he’d claimed to have a fantastic surprise for the Brit. He took them out of the city and into a rural area of Spades, happily showing Arthur a small bookstore-cafe hybrid tucked in the center of a gorgeous and extensive garden.

Arthur had been astonished by the American’s thoughtfulness as he stepped into the quaint store, which sold only the classics and smelled of old binding, to Arthur’s utter enchantment. Alfred had trailed Arthur patiently throughout the store and listened as Arthur excitedly showed Alfred book after book, trying his best to understand the complex plots the Prince described and remaining interested throughout it all. Afterward, Alfred had paid for all of the books Arthur wanted and lunch, which they ate while sitting at a secluded table hidden behind the branches of a weeping willow.

And Alfred had kissed Arthur for the first time. Arthur had wrapped his arms around the American’s neck and tugged him closer, thinking of nothing else but the man holding him.

Of course, the press had managed to ruin the moment. The rapid click of camera shutter tore the pair away from the moment and toward the several reporters pushing through the branches to photograph them.

“That’s our cue!” Alfred had cried, laughing as he took Arthur by the hand and rushed him back to the car, driving off.

* * *

It was only after Arthur and Alfred spent another month together that Arthur realized he was getting off track. He and Alfred had been going out several times a week and Arthur had been thoroughly enjoying himself, up until he realized that he had completely forgotten to watch for Francis’ reaction to his new relationship.

He’d been so wrapped up in Alfred, he’d completely forgotten he’d ever wanted Francis back. Even when he realized he’d lost sight of his original goal, it was hard to see it as a problem. He and Alfred were growing closer every day, and the more time he spent with the American, the more he liked him.

When they were together, Arthur forgot that Alfred was a rebound—the one he was supposed to be using to get Francis back. No, Arthur had come to see their relationship as a genuine one and his adoration for Alfred increased daily.

Of course, his domestic bliss wasn’t to last long.

Francis visited Arthur at the castle carrying tulips in his hand. When Arthur opened the door, he stepped in and embraced the Brit, immediately beginning to speak rapidly.

Frowning, Arthur pushed him away. “Francis?” He asked, astonished. “What are you doing here?”

“Arthur, I came to talk to you,” Francis said , holding the tulips out to Arthur. The Brit frowned at them instead of taking them, so Francis set them on a nearby coffee table and continued. “Arthur, I am worried for you. Every week there is a new article about some sort of secret escapade you and Alfred went on.”

Arthur raised a thick brow, surprised. “And?” He asked.

Francis was gazing at him with pity and condescension in his eyes, his expression seeming to say, _oh, you poor man_. He sighed. “I know we are no longer together, but that does not mean I do not care any more. I want you to be happy, Arthur. Which is why I must tell you that dating Alfred in an attempt to make me jealous won’t work, and you shouldn’t do yourself nor him the dishonor of continuing this.”

Arthur folded his arms across his chest, annoyed. “You assume that I don’t sincerely care for him.”

“I know you don’t sincerely care for him. When you spoke of him, you clearly disliked him. We both know he is a brute with sub-par intelligence and a talent for charming his way between people’s sheets. He’s not well-suited for you in any way.” Retorted Francis.

“You’re wrong,” Arthur huffed, gritting his teeth. “Alfred is bloody wonderful. He’s exciting and funny and, yes, perhaps a bit dim-witted from the outside, but in reality he is far more intelligent than most others, especially you. And regardless of whether or not our relationship was real or good for me—which it is—it is not your place to say. If you want so badly to be sure that I date exactly who you want me to, you shouldn’t have left me.” Arthur said, and found himself actually meaning it. He no longer cared whether Francis noticed he and Alfred—he only wanted to be with Alfred.

Francis shook his head. “Christ, Arthur, how stubborn are you? Are you that committed to a fake relationship?”

“Our relationship is not fake!” Shouted Arthur, his temper rising.

He couldn’t stand to have Francis standing in his home insulting him over his new relationship. The man who had slain his happiness months prior was coming back, sword in hand, to repeat his actions. Arthur couldn’t believe it—Francis had no claim to him anymore, didn’t have any right to be criticizing his relationship.

“Oh? You didn’t start seeing him to make me jealous?” Francis asked.

“Alfred may have started as a rebound, but it’s not like that anymore!” Arthur cried angrily.

“A-ha! So you  _were_  dating Alfred in order to make me jealous!” Francis hollered.

The door opened. Alfred was standing there, one hand on the doorknob and looking between Arthur and Francis. The bright, beautiful blue eyes Arthur had come to adore were wide and full of hurt, his brows pulled down and his plush lips sunken in a frown.

“Get the hell out, Francis!” Arthur yelled immediately, pointing toward the door.

Francis merely growled in return before shoving past Alfred and storming out the door.

Once he was gone, Alfred looked to Arthur. “…Artie?” He asked, and the heartbroken expression on his face killed Arthur. “Was I really just a way of getting back at Francis?”

“Alfred, I-I—No! God, no, darling, it was more than that to me, I swear,” Arthur insisted, speaking quickly.

Alfred didn’t believe him, shaking his head rapidly. “Was that why you didn’t care about the reporters? You wanted him to see it?!”

“No! Darling, it may have been that way at first, but I swear to you it’s not like that anymore! It hasn’t been like that in a long time! Our relationship may have started out artificial but I promise you that it couldn’t be more genuine now!” Insisted Arthur desperately.

“But you would’ve never been with me in the first place if it weren’t for the fact that you wanted him. Why’d you pick me, Arthur? ‘Cause I was an easy target? Did you pick me because you knew I was too stupid to catch on? Because you thought I wouldn’t care about being tricked since I sleep with so many people?!” Cried Alfred angrily.

“Alfred, please, listen to me! I—I wish I could take back what happened. If I had known what a sweet, kind, amazing man you were—”

“But you didn’t! You just wanted to use me! Y-You lied to me! You probably just agreed to go out with me ‘cause you knew it’d be in the press before you could blink! And the whole time I seriously thought I was so lucky to be seeing you! God, I can’t fucking believe I was stupid enough to believe that you would actually fucking care about me!” Alfred shouted, his voice loud and full of anger, his eyes glistening with wetness.

Despite knowing he was at fault, Arthur’s temper rose and he shouted back. “What the hell do you care, Alfred?! It’s not like you have a shortage of willing partners anyway! Surely I was just a particularly challenging notch in your bedpost.”

Alfred’s face twisted with anger. “Are you fucking serious, Arthur?! Yeah, I slept around a lot, so what?! Just because I was causal with those people didn’t mean they didn’t each mean something to me, and you meant the most out of everyone! I tried so hard to make everything perfect because I seriously cared about you! And I never pressured you, either, because there was no fucking concern for whether or not we did anything! Whether or not we slept together, I still wanted to be with you!”

“Honestly, Alfred, I have no idea what you thought would become of this. You knew I disapproved of your lifestyle, you knew I found you annoying, you knew—well, you knew we weren’t a good match! Why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to pursue me?! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Instead of getting angrier, Alfred looked as though all the fight had been drained from him. He was staring at Arthur with tears in his eyes, his face ashen and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I thought we were falling in love,” he whispered, his words punctuated by tears.

Arthur’s face fell and he paused, watching the American walk to the door and open it. “Alfred—” Arthur was cut off by the door shutting behind Alfred.

* * *

It had only been a week since their breakup when Arthur saw Alfred again. Ironically, it was in the same place they’d begun their relationship—at a ball hosted in the grand ballroom of the Spades Palace. Alfred looked devilishly handsome in his navy blue suit, but the debonair smile which usually completed his look was surprisingly absent. Not only that, but he’d walked in with only his brother and his brother’s husband, Gilbert, for company—Alfred was rarely seen arriving at an event without someone under his arm.

Arthur, too, had decided not to bring a date as he wasn’t sure he could bear the thought of spending an entire evening in a romantic setting with someone who wasn’t Alfred. He wanted desperately to go talk to the man, but he was far too afraid of what the American would say to him. Arthur knew he’d be rejected—after all, he’d been absolutely horrible to Alfred before. How could he possibly expect the American to take him back after belittling the man when he expressed sincere love for him?

Thus, Arthur spent most of the ball speaking idly to different people, not truly caring for what anyone was saying and watching Alfred intently. It wasn’t until Francis sidled up beside Arthur that the Brit tore his eyes away from Alfred in order to glare heatedly at the Frenchman.

“What the hell do you want, frog?” He spat venomously.

Francis looked down. “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to hurt your relationship with Alfred.” He mumbled, sounding guilty.

“Oh, bugger off, Francis. We both know that’s a goddamned lie. You couldn’t stand that I was happy with someone else because you wanted me to waste the rest of my life pining after you.” When the Frenchman was silent, blue eyes widened in astonishment, Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re impossibly transparent, darling. You want everyone to adore you and desire you, and you can’t stand it when someone doesn’t.”

Francis hesitated a moment more. Then, “…you are right, Arthur. I wanted you to desire me again and to be reminded of me. But not because I wanted you to pine after me forever. The more I saw you with Alfred, happy and smiling and clearly falling in love… The more I was reminded of what we used to be.

It was so, so wonderful, Arthur. I know we had bad times—obviously, that was why I left. But now I see we were just going through a rough patch. Had I stuck through it, we could have come out even stronger. I still think we can. If you give me another chance, I’d do anything to prove to you that I can be the man you need.” Francis finished, staring intently at Arthur.

For a moment, Arthur was too stunned to speak. Then, he shook his head. “No, Francis. I’m sorry, but our time apart made me realize some things too. I can’t accept your feelings. It would be a lie if I said I returned them.” He mumbled.

“But—But, Arthur, I love you!” Francis suddenly shouted, drawing the attention of the room as he took the Brit’s hands in his and tugged him closer. “Please, my love, I made a mistake! I want to be together again!”

Around the room, 'aww’s’ sounded, most of the party-goers clearly touched by Francis’ words. Arthur gulped, staring at the man as he thought. Hadn’t this outcome been the point of everything? He’d been with Alfred to get Francis back, and now he had him. Shouldn’t he want this? Yes, he was falling for Alfred—but they were clearly over, Arthur reasoned. No matter how much he cared for Alfred, they couldn’t be together any longer. Why wait for someone who he could never have when the man he’d wanted only a few short months ago was now begging for his affection? Arthur was free to be with Francis again; neither he nor Francis were seeing anyone else.

And yet, it felt wrong. Arthur knew he’d wanted this, but looking at Francis now confused him. Despite himself, he couldn’t seem to understand why he’d wasted so much time pining after the man. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the man whom he wished was holding him in that moment.

Alfred was standing toward the edge of the room, his bright eyes wide in astonishment and fixed upon Arthur. The Brit met his gaze, staring at him with every ounce of affection he could muster. Alfred seemed to understand and his eyes filled with tears; whether from sadness or joy, Arthur couldn’t be sure, but he knew what he had to do.

He turned back toward Francis and took a deep breath in. “…I’m sorry, Francis. If you had done this months ago, things would have been different, but there was someone who was there for me when you weren’t. Someone who loved me even when you couldn’t. Francis, I—I never wanted to hurt you, but I’m in love with Alfred.” Arthur announced.

A collective gasp sounded from the crowd. Slowly, Francis released his hands. Without a word, the Frenchman turned on his heel and walked past the crowd, exiting. The rest of the party-goers were still whispering excitedly, watching Arthur navigate through the crowd and to Alfred.

The American’s eyes were still wide and watery, and he stared at Arthur in complete shock. “I thought you were going to take him back,” he whispered.

Arthur shook his head and reached up, wiping away his tears. “No, darling. I don’t want anyone but you. Your thoughts were correct, as usual: we were falling in love, and I still am. If you’ll have me, I’ll make it up to you in any way you like.”

Alfred beamed, throwing his arms around Arthur. The Brit was hoisted off of his feet and into Alfred’s bone-crushing embrace, both of them now laughing jovially. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred in return, burying his face in the crook of the American’s neck and peppering his suntanned skin with kisses. Alfred squeezed him tightly, and Arthur knew that all would be well.


End file.
